I Will See You Again
by SybilG
Summary: For Belle, being a hero always backfires. Rumpel just left a brokenhearted Belle on Storybrooke's windswept dock to watch Hook's ship sail into another world. When Pan's shadow begins to steal her identity, Belle must find a way to Rumpel to warn him. But she doesn't end up quite where she hoped! She must decide between the happiness of others, and finding her own. SO MUCH RUMBELLE
1. Left Behind

**Author's Note: No I don't own OUAT. Wish I did! This story is new take on Belle's life sans Rumpel. She refuses to sit around and wait for his return. Rather, she tumbles into her own adventure as she struggles to find him. Also lots of Dark Castle flash backs, and Rumbelle cuteness. Please review and let me know your thoughts- this is my first fanfic! Hope you enjoy!  
**

"I _know_ I will see you again," I managed, trying to force out words as my chin began to quiver. His expression —brows furrowed over a sad grimace— didn't change and I knew standing here longer would only allow me enough time to really start crying. I turned my head and walked stiffly away, back off the dock and towards town. Anywhere else but here. At the first corner I rounded, I slumped down against the brick wall of the old building and sobbed. I hugged my knees into my chest, and let the tears dripped down my chin. The pain of this loss was so unexpected, so consuming. Moments ago we had walked to the ship arm in arm, and now the desolation that settled upon me as I realized we were reunited just to be torn apart again was suffocating. I couldn't breathe, and bit my fist to slow my hyperventilating. At least he couldn't see this— I was glad none of them could. Gradually the tears stopped, and the racking sobs in my chest resided. I wiped my nose of the sleeve of my blue pea-coat and pressed my eyes hard against my knees. _Gone._ Silver stars burst against my eyelids and to dull the ache I lifted my head. Slowly, I gripped the side of the wall, and pulled my self up. With a deep breath I peered around the corner, at the ship sailing out of the harbor. It felt like I had only walked away minutes ago, but the vessel was already losing shape and size in the horizon. _Truly gone_.

I couldn't stay there on the warf, waiting for someone to find me. But I had no will to get on, to return to his empty house. It would be my first time back there since I crossed the town line. And it would be alone. Part of me wished I still had no memories besides my cursed life as Lacey, because the thought of seeing the familiar house— our home—ripped another dark ache across my chest. The sky above clouded over slowly, and before I had reached main street it began to drizzle lightly. _Well, staying out in the rain will only make things worse. Head cold _and_ heartbroken- what good will that do?_ I thought about withdrawing the sanctity of my library but even the endless shelves of books seemed austere and unwelcoming now. I didn't need a distraction from my pain, I needed comfort. I knew where to go.

The bells on the door jingled as I walked into Granny's, but no one much looked up. A few hours ago, most of the people in Storybrooke had been preparing for the end of their lives, tucked away in their homes with loved ones. And yet it appeared Granny's was still a natural gathering spot, apocalypse or not. Ruby glanced up from the bar and shot me an inquisitive look. I turned away, and shuffled towards one of the last empty booths. I folded my arms across the table and rested my chin on them.

Lacey's— my—memories came bubbling back to me. Like movie scenes they were intertwining and melding, narrated by thoughts I could not remember thinking. It was like remembering dream logic; while you slept your mind made decisions in dreams that made sense for that dream. But when you awake and start thinking back none of it feels like choices you would ever make. You could see the thoughts and feelings behind your actions but they weren't really yours.

As Lacey, I had laughed at Rumpel, left him here on our date. I had made out with I man I hardly knew, and then watched Rumpel beat his face and body beyond recognition. My stomach curled sickeningly as I remember the feeling of the tight smile that spread over my face, the crack of the cane and gurgled cries. Lacey had goaded him on, enjoyed it. I hadn't—yet I had. And now he was gone, and I couldn't fix the past. It was all so heavy, so exhausting. A new dull hole that gaped wide behind my ribs, edges raw and aching.

"Belle?" Ruby asked softly as she slid into the booth across from me. "Are you alright."

"No," I said, but when I tried to explain further no words came. She waited, and the sympathy in her eyes made me feel even more broken.

"Listen," she pressed a hand over my arm, "I've got to keep busy but I've got a break in 10 minutes. I'll bring over a plate of food and sit with you a bit."

"No, I don't want—"

"Belle, nonsense. There's something wrong and the least I can do is bring you a hamburger."

A little while later Ruby brought over a hamburger, a bottle of ketchup and an ice tea. I looked at the food, and tried to figure out how something that looked so delicious could feel so unappetizing. Brows furrowed, she set the items down from her carefully balanced tray as she spoke, "It thought things were okay. The dwarfs came back saying the failsafe had been stopped, and I mean- we're all still here." She sat down across from me.

"Then you don't know," I began slowly.

"Know what," she leaned forward.

"That those outsiders, the man from the hospital and the runner, they took Henry."

"What," she breathed. "But, why—when—"

"I don't know, but sometime during all the chaos. Rumpel came and told me, and said he and the Charmings and Emma," I paused "And even Regina were going to find him."

"Where did they drive too— I mean they couldn't get that far."

"They didn't drive, Ruby."

"No…" she started, but I nodded and continued, "They portal jumped. To Neverland, and Hook's ship was the only way to follow."

Ruby starred behind me, eye unfocused, "I know working the lunch shift keeps me busy but how did I miss all this."

"Well, I guess no one much knows yet."

"Belle," Ruby turned back to look at me. "If they're all gone—if Rumpel's gone. Why are you here?"She spoke ponderously, as if she was both asking her question and answering it at the same time. "He wouldn't let you go."

I smiled lopsidedly, "It comes off as controlling, but truth be told he's nothing if not protective." The smile dipped off my face as I remembered our last moments. The finally in his eyes. Ruby asked the next natural question.

"When is he coming back?"

I pinched my eyes shut, I was couldn't start crying again. Not here, with all these people. Ruby read the answer in my crumpled face.

"Oh Belle, I'm so sorry." I could feel the sobs welling up, and I coughed trying to keep my sorrow subtle. "Hey, hey" she said softly, putting her hands over mine. "You know I have mixed feelings about Mr Gold. But he loves you- it's more than obvious to everyone, and you know he's gotten himself out of worse. Especially if he's got someone counting on him."

I knew she meant the words as comfort, but I couldn't help thinking that she was right: he _did_ have someone counting on him. _Henry_. And I knew that if Rumpel was to weigh the gravity of our relationship against Henry's loss, which one would take precedent. Because for Rumpel, saving Henry was saving a piece of Bae. Rumpel could redeem himself to the memory of his son, and save a part of Bae that might forgive him in a way the real Bae couldn't now. My heart had broken on the dock as I realized that Rumpel was choosing good over self-interest, without reservation or conditions. I had hoped for that for so very long, I had seen it in him this whole time. Yet it was so bittersweet;my heart broke again as I realized Rumpel's redemption also had a terrible price.

"Ruby," I said when I had control over my breathing again, "He doesn't think he _is_ coming back. Not this time."

Each time we'd been apart, cursed or not, we'd found away to reunite and move passed both of our brokenness. But this time….

"Ruby," I began again, "I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Babe, I won't let you be. You can come over to Granny's and have a room with us. Or I could sleep over at your place above the library. We'll think of a good distraction."

"Anything," I agreed.

Across the diner from Ruby, Granny tightened her lips and taped her wristwatch.

"Look," Ruby said, picking up the try and standing. "I've got to work until four thirty. You can stay here as long as you want. After you eat something—and you _need_ to eat something— we'll figure out what's next."

"Sounds good"- I forced a smile. I was genuinely grateful for Ruby's compassion and warmth. But smiling felt like moving muscles I didn't have anymore, and the weight of today dragged any hopeful emotion off my face.

Ruby left me with my untouched food. The hamburger and I stared at each other for a few minutes, before I reached out to the cold sandwich and forced down a few bites. My coat was still damp, and I was starting to feel chilled. _Form follows content, _I thought_ Cold and weighted on the outside, cold and burdened on the inside. _Pulling my arms out of the sleeves and tugging the jacket off from around my waist, I felt a bump in my pocket. I reached in slowly and withdrew the small scroll of parchment tied with a ribbon. The protection and concealment spell. I was glad Ruby had already freed up her evening, because I found our distraction.

* * *

As we walked down Main street, Ruby linked her arm through mine and draw up her hood against the wind. "So, how to we do this?"

"I- I don't know," I said, looking down at the small glass vial and scroll in my hands. "Rumpel gave me instructions and told me I would know what to do, but I can't read it." I had spent most of my time at Granny's trying to decipher the tightly curled script, but I couldn't. Ruby held out her free hand and I passed it to her.

A moment later she passed it back, "Yea, I have no idea."

"Why don't we ask for help, I'm sure the Blue Fairy—."

"Ruby," I turned to her, "Rumpel entrusted this to me. He wouldn't let me go with him, but this, _this_ he believed I could do. If we can't figure it out soon we can ask for help but Ruby please" I begged, "I need to do something."

She nodded. We slowed our pace as I squinted at the text again. The sloped f's, the abundant v's, the missing vowels. Ruby steered me around a traffic pole, "Belle, watch where you're going."

"I think I've I got an idea at least." I shook my head. "I've seen this in the special collections of the library. In the footnotes in 'Arthurian Legends,' too. It's English, but not English we know."

Ruby and I arrived at the library just as the rain began again. Quickly we ducked under the awing and I tucked the scroll away. The last thing I needs was to wash off the ink- and any magic with it. I pulled out my keys and shimmied open the door. The library was still closed to the public. A month ago I had almost had it ready, but that was before I lost my memories and Regina reset me to Lacey. Lacey frequented a lot more bars than books._ In fact_ I thought as I flicked on the lights one row at a time and shelf after shelf popped into illuminated existence, _the last time I was here was when Captain Hook trapped me in the elevator_. I shivered. It was a memory that would be much unsettling if that same pirate wasn't on board (figurative and literally) with Emma, Rumpel and the Charmings right now.

Ruby sat at my desk as I hauled in a few dusty tomes of Old English translations and medieval literature from special collections. It didn't take long to find research notes on a cypher. Once I had a handle on the alphabet, Ruby and I moved between the texts and the scroll, writing down in plain English the instructions Rumpel had left.

"All that work for a few sentences. He's pretty cryptic, your Rumpel, isn't he?"

"You have no idea," I smiled. A sense of importance was fueling my actions now. I didn't feel as desolate now that I knew I was helping him in some way.

Half an hour later, we both slumped back in our chairs. I was already exhausted when we started, but now I was mentally_ and_ emotionally demolished. "Wow, it's actually pretty simple when it comes down to it, isn't it?"

"Sounds like we get into the old mines, and pour out this vial on some fairy dust in the rocks," Ruby replied.

"What if there isn't an exposed vein? Do they keep the pick axes down there, the dwarfs?"

"I mean, I hope so." Ruby said. "But they do seem pretty attached to them."

"Let's give it a try ourselves first. I don't want to worry anyone if we don't have too" I said scooting my chair back and picking the heavy books up to return them to the shelves.

"I know Rumpel was pretty emphatic about this protection spell but who else would be coming to Storybrooke now anyway?" Ruby folded her forearms on the desk. "I mean, it makes me sad to say it but Greg and that woman got what they came for."

"I don't know, but Rumpel's got a knack for predictions and the sooner we get this taken care of…" I trailed off. Then what? I'll lock myself up and resign to tending these books? How will these shelves be any different from a jail cell? Trapped in not by someone else' demand, but by my own limitations. I'd be bound to wait here like a princess in an ivory tower.

"Anyway," I put on my coat and Ruby did the same. We walked to the door. "First things first."

We let ourselves out, and I locked the door behind us. The mines weren't far, though I didn't like the idea of entering in the rain. I had reviewed the towns archived newspaper collection in the library; Henry and Archie were trapped in a collapse not too long ago and flooded mines seemed a little risky. But this was the _one _thing Rumpel left me too do. For now, it was also _all_ I could do.

As we trudged across the damp sand to the mine entrance, Ruby turned to me. "Have you ever cast a spell before?"

"No, but I believe in us."

Our shadows played on the walls as when stepped cautiously around the tunnel corridor. It was surprisingly well lit for a mine. I imagined that when the failsafe had been activated to destroy the town down here, who ever had been her last had darted out pretty quickly. Saving electricity was not a high priority at that point. The elevator and surrounding tunnels were illuminated every few paces with small wall lamps.

"There!" Ruby pointed ahead. At the next bend in the tunnel, towards where the cart track began, was a large boulder. I could just make out the glimmer of gemstones, refracting the light and glistening from a crack in the rock. Fairy dust.

I jogged ahead and Ruby followed. Uncorking the bottle with shaking hands, I tipped the clear purplish liquid in and it descending into the crevice like opalescent smoke. For a moment nothing happened and disappointment flushed my face. Then a warm blast shook from the boulder, and reverberated out along the tunnel and through the bedrock. It felt like someone shut an oven door; the spell's gust was sweet and suddenly hot and gone a moment later. Magic.

"I think that's it," I said, recorking the bottle.

"We're good?" asked Ruby, smiling.

"I only hope we didn't take too long," I spent, remembering Rumpel's urgency and thinking about all the time we had spent at Granny's, and next the library.

"Belle, who else would be coming to Storybrooke now? And we_ know_ no one's leaving."

My throat caught. We stepped into the elevator and it ticked slowly back to the surface entrance, shadows crisscrossing our faces as the ancient gears cranked unsettlingly. _I _wanted to leave Storybrooke. I couldn't stay here counting days into indefinite weeks and months. It felt like I had spent most of my life loosing Rumpel. Although the few sweet moments of reunion made each separation worth it, how many times could a heart be bruised and battered and still beat?

Ruby interrupted my thoughts, wrenching open the old doors and stepping into the elevator. She hefted down the lever and it began to crank up the beach. Though I see Ruby every day, I forget how strong she is. The elevator shuddered and stopped at the top of the shaft. With a strong tug, Ruby loosened the rusty doors and we blinked into the dull light. The sun was dipping lower above the day. "Want to come back to Granny's?"

"I think I just want to sleep," I replied.

"Well, you know you're welcome. I'd better see you in the morning. Have you tried eggs in a basket yet?"

"Do you eat the basket?" I said, pulling back the hair the wind had tangled across my face. I tried to picture a small, edible wicker plate.

"Oh Belle, there's so much you've got to learn."

I hugged her as we stepped out of the sand and onto the road that lead back towards the clock tower. She'd go left and I'd continue back to my apartment . "I'll be there," I smiled. And turning. I wrapped by arms tightly around myself against into the cold evening air and leaned on the returning loneliness like a cane.


	2. Dealing with Darkness

Back at my apartment, I made myself tea as the rain dribbled down the fogging windows. Let the search for a distraction begin. Nestled in a knit blanket Mary Margaret had given me when I first moved into my own place, I picked up books from the top of my coffee table stack. _Pride and Prejudice_. I opened the book, and sipping the chamomile I tried to loose myself in Mr. Darcy's arrogance. But I quickly realized a romance tale was a terrible choice for the broken-hearted. I put the book down on the velveteen cushion the toed it towards the opposite end of the sofa.

I picked up the next book in the pile, _Harry Potter_. Ruby had told me I had to read this one as part of my American cultural education. But dipping back into magic didn't seem appetizing at the moment either. One by one I tried to lose myself in my novels. Books are secret literary hiding places I have always withdrawn to during times of pain or confusion. When I was locked by Regina in the hospital's insanity ward the few books I was allowed kept me going. One year a nurse brought me a complete collection of JR Tolkien's _Lord of the Rings_, and the _Hobbit_. Transporting myself to another world was the one way I made it through the indefinite solitary confinement. But nothing on my reading list could hold my attention for more than a few moments now, and two mugs of tea later I gave up.

My apartment was small. The space featured a kitchen nook that opened directly into a carpeted living room. I hadn't decorated it much, despite Ruby's encouragement. I had the sofa and coffee table, and two white vases of flowers from Mary Margaret as part of a move-in gift. Originally she had given me perky yellow daises and baby's breathe. Rumpel had quickly replaced them with elegant roses that never wilted. Rather the flowers changed color every few days, subtly but enough to reveal the enchantment behind their impossible longevity. Like Ruby, Rumpel had wanted to decorate my new home. He offered a number of ornate trinkets from his shop. However, it was such as small place that I felt the clutter of decorative objects, however lovely, would be best left to his shop. I had argued him down to two items. The first gift was a pair of statuesque bookends, elegantly carved to resemble greek caryatids in wet drapery. The other gift was an equally lovely arm chair. It was upholstered in dusky coral fabric with golden threading. I loved it immediately because was plush but simple: almost feminine in its slender wooden arms and florid carvings. It was perfect for reading, as it was firm enough to sit in for long afternoons but soft enough to feel as if I was leaning back against his chest. Though we were struggling to get to know each other better in this new, strange world, I had to admit Rumpel was doing a good job.

I moved from the living room to the bedroom (the only other space besides my bathroom). Distracting myself with other heroes' feelings hadn't worked, and so the oblivion of sleep seemed like the next best panacea. The small size of my bed also helped, as there wasn't space to miss anyone. Most nights I slept at Rumpel's; this apartment served as my retreat. In my bed, I stared at the window for a while. Why couldn't he have taken me with him? I was more than capable. Though I wasn't as fearless as Emma, or magically gifted as Regina, I measured up to any heroine I had read of from Hermione Granger to Elizabeth Bennet. But the sense of indignancy washed away as the real reason bubbled to the surface: _he didn't want me to watch him die_. I hugged a pillow to my chest, and my mind drifted back to the last evening we spent together as Belle and Rumpel, as he was preparing to leave to find Henry.

* * *

It's confusing to meet, and re-meet the same person again in so many ways. There are routines you have to re-learn, habits and comforts to rediscover. Things that feel new no matter how many times you repeat them. Undressing for bed was always like this. Rumpel's master bedroom had a walk in closest and at first I would change among the shelves of clothes he had purchased for me. But the shyness wore off, and I couldn't help but love the way he would watch me when he thought I wasn't looking. As if he was in perpetual disbelief that I had not only came back, but had stayed. That despite our problems, our separations, and his relapses there I was. That night I slipped on a pale pink set of silk pajamas, rubbing the smooth fabric over my arms. It was so fragile, so wonderful compared to the starchy shifts of the hospital ward. Rumpel was sitting up in the bed, eyebrows raised.

"What is it?"

"Just making sure everything is real," I replied, smiling. His eyebrows raised and he leaned forward, concerned. I think at first he was worried about my memory, that Lacey could return again. "I just mean, there was I a time when I thought none of this would ever be possible for us."

I slid into bed beside him and propped myself up on my elbow. In a lot of books I've read, authors talk about shadows aging people: adding layers of darkness and suspicion to faces. But for Rumpel the opposite was true. In the soft evening light, and then darkness as he turned off the lamp, he looked younger. The lines etched into his face disappeared, and his eyes softened in the low light. In moments like this I wished I had known him then, before the dagger, before Mila or ever Bae. I felt his hand slide below the edge of my pajamas and rest on my hip.

"You don't know how many times a day I think the same things, love."

I snuggled across the space to curl against his chest, and his other arm went under my shoulders to hold me. I could hear his heart thumping quietly, reassuring me that despite the past, our future was full of hope for healing.

He ran his back over to my lower back and a shudder ran up my spine. I inched as close to him as I could be, lifting my lips to his. We kissed in the dark, perfect silence.

"You know," he said, smoothing my hair back from my face "times like this are special. I've seen too many happily ever afters that unravel themselves."

"I think we're finally done unraveling and we're starting to weave; for once I'm glad you're so familiar with yarn and threads," I said smugly. He kissed me again.

* * *

I smiled into the pillow at the memory. It was like a candle for me right now, warm and hopeful. I could almost feel his hand on my back again. My eyes popped open: _did feel a twinge in my back._ But it was becoming more and more painful. An ache that sharpened until it felt as if a hook was wired through my vertebrae. Suddenly, I felt as if I was yanked backwards, my vision graying over. I could hear the buzz of a jungle, and heard myself talking. "Nasty habits," my voice was saying. "... that self-preservation...is it really worth it... Come back to me. We can have another child." And Rumples voice was replying, but I couldn't make out his words. The visions was like a fast car, twisting and swerving backwards. Nausea welled in my stomach, as the gray molted into verdant leafy green strips of color. All of the sudden, the world snapped back in place. My neck cracked forward, as my bed rose to meet me.

Opening my eyes out of the lingering pain, I saw I had never left my apartment. But my mind felt like it had traveled worlds. I had had several panic attacks in the asylum, but never as severe as this. Was I suffering lasting mental injuries from losing my memory a second time? God please no—I couldn't go through that again without Rumpel here to remind me who I was. My head throbbed. But I swear, I had heard his voice, my own voice. I had been somewhere beyond the cursed boundaries of Stonybrooke.

The clock pinged gently as it reached the hour. Three am. Whatever had just happened, I would have to wait until morning to find out.

* * *

I was at the Convent shortly after daylight. I hadn't been able to sleep much after the strange episode. Fear trumped loneliness and exhaustion as I watched the clock tick away the night until daybreak. This morning I was exhausted but determined as I stepped up the carved cathedral steps. The scent of incense wafted from an open stained-glass window.

"Blue," I knocked on the church doors. "Blue!" Behind the heavy oaken doors I could hear heals clicking. A moment later the door was hefted open, and a tiny brunette woman in a navy cardigan appeared.

"Belle, I knew you would be coming soon. Come in," she waved me inside.

We walked to her office, and rather than sitting behind her desk she sat next to me on the leather sofa and clasped my hands. "What did you see?"

"Pardon?" I asked.

"Last night I sensed a dark presence over Storybrooke, like a hawk flying low over a field. It tried to carry something with it. You are here now, and I am sad to guess it is no coincidence " My heart beat faster. I described the yanking sensations, the visions of jungles and Rumpel's voice conversing with my own.

"If Rumpel is indeed in Neverland, I believe someone may be trying to drag you through as well."

"What?"

"You don't remember saying any of the things you heard last night, but your memory is fine. I believe that someone is impersonating you, drawing on your image, your memories, part of your soul for their magic. But they're pulling more of you with them than they expect."

"I don't understand," I sputtered "Am I sleep walking through worlds…or possessed?"

"Neither— think of it this way. Someone is trying to steal your phone, but they accidentally call your home number. The connection gives away their secret. You're connected to the imposter and that may be why you feel the whirling sensation and see visions."

"But why, is someone using me? To get to Rumpel?" My heart had been thudding in my throat, but now it lumbered to a near stop. The things I had heard last night sounded manipulative, malicious, and sinister. What if someone was using my presence to lead Rumpel astray from finding Henry, tempting him towards dark magic, towards cowardice, toward all of the beastly past we had worked so hard to escape. If he didn't realize it was a farce it would be my fault. I couldn't let this happen to him.

"How can we stop it?"

"I don't think anyone is strong enough to pull you through the boundaries between worlds, but I fear they maybe using your presence to harm the others. Like wearing a mask. This is very dark magic indeed, different than mere shape-shifting."

Her confirmation of my hunch only terrified me further. "What. Can we. Do." I managed.

"Though as a nun I shouldn't encouraged this but I insist that tonight, you should sleep at Mr. Gold's. I take it you have a key? I would assume his house is under a number of enchantments that may help you." Her eyes brows lowered and she continued slowly "I believe I could give you a potion to weigh down your sleep, in a way making your spirit to heavy to carry off. But it's a close cousin of the fabled sleeping curse and without Mr. Gold present…" she trailed off. I could finished her sentence intuitively: without Rumpel there was no hope for a true love's kiss. I swallowed. It was a scant hope, but her idea was better than nothing. Perhaps the evil wouldn't return tonight, but if I didn't at least I could face it under Rumpel's last protection.

"And if it fails?"

"Well then," Blue paused. "We may have to take more decisive action. If someone is posing as you, the best option may be to directly dispel the illusion."

"Meaning?"

"We may need to find a way for you to follow after them." I gulped. "But for now Belle, I believe your strong enough to resist this." She touched my cheek softly, "Take heart, Belle."

* * *

I left the Covent feeling more unsettled than before. Yesterday's rain had cleared overnight, and the sun was damply glimmered through a cool misty morning. As I turned down the Covent's maple-lined driveway back towards the center of town, an expanse of hours confronted me. What was I going to do with my entire day? _My entire indefinite period of waiting? _Normally I enjoyed solitude as much as I enjoyed company. But this solitude was tinted differently, blotted with confusion and longing. And at the end of the day, the anxiety about sleep punctuated my thought. Heavy and dark, the dread slinked around the corners of my mind.

I pulled the hair tie out of my chocolate curls and began to rebraid my hair as I walked. I had promised Ruby I'd see her during the breakfast shift, and if I cloistered myself in my apartment any longer she'd huff and puff and break down my door.

Along the main road, shops were starting to open. I could smell fresh bread wafting from Storybrooke's only bakery, and heard a saw humming within the Marco's cabinetry workshop. Life was resuming. _Mine would too_, I told myself. I had never been one to waste time pining: sedentary and useless. Before Lacey (this had cemented itself as an official marking of time in my mind, like BC and AD) the center of my life had been supporting the slow but definite transformation of my true love. Rumpel leaned on me far more than he did his cane. But even if the axis on which my world turned had vanished, I would continue to whirl forward. Though true love completes a person, I couldn't let myself believe that without it I was any less than a strong, whole human.

I open the door to Granny's, and Ruby turned from handing out platters of pancakes and bacon to the dwarfs to smile warmly at me. I picked a different booth from yesterday. I choose the one where I tried my first hamburger with Rumpel. The memory made me smile as I slid into the leather seat, and I clung to the feeling as if I was clutching a candle in darkness.

After Ruby force-fed me eggs, toast and bacon I had to admit I did feel a lot better. I nursed my second cup of coffee as I planned out my day. I _should_ overlook Rumpel's shop while he was gone. Part of me wanted to avoid the shop for stirring up memories, and part of me hoped I'd feel his presence around his collections and curiosities. And it_ would_ give me something to do. I left money for the bill and a good tip before Ruby could stop me (so far she had given me way more free food than Granny would appreciate), and slipped out the door.

* * *

Entering Rumpel's shop reminded me of stepping into a chapel. It was softly lit and awash in warm, sepia tones. Without the noise of his polishing, mending or spirited deal-brokering the storefront was warm and silent. I flipped on the case lights and a few floor lamps, and switched the sign from closed to open. I walked to the counter and the heady smell of old books stirred in the air. True love isn't as straightforward as feeling all weaken-kneed at the sight of a man; it isn't perfect prose and courtly romance. The things that melted me most to me were not story-book scenes but our little joys in unexpected places. The fact that his shop smelled like old books- my favorite smell in the world- it was like a love note from fate.

Slipping behind the counter, I cleared open the wall to expose his secret safe. It was only recently I discovered my fingerprints could open it too. I had thought it was blood magic, but no. Slowly, Rumpel was making way for me into the most reserved parts of his life. I had the keys to his shop, his home, and gradually his secrets. I touched my thumb to the lock and it clicked open, glowing magically. Inside was the blue satchel, nestled between strange scrolls and vials of ingredients. If Rumpel trusted me enough to give me access to his vault, and I trusted him enough to moderate his use of the magic inside. Ignoring the jars of gnarled roots and swirling bottles of potion, I withdrew the satchel and opened it gently. I set the chipped cup on the glass counter top, and traced the broken rim with my fingertip. Memories from the Enchanted Forest often felted like blurred dreams, but those with Rumpel were the most solid anchors I had to my past. Even the darker memories.


	3. The Deal is Struck

When Rumpel had come from me in my father castle, he hadn't even given me time to pack. As he led me from the great hall, I tried to keep my chin from quivering.

"There, there, dearie," he said with mock emotion. He muffled a giggle by patting my hand as he tucked it under his elbow.

"I just need to get my things," I struggled to keep my voice steady. This was the right choice. This was the only choice. "My chamber is only up this turret—" I turned to go but his comforting pat curled into a possessive grasp. He pinned my wrist against his leather jacket and I was yanked closer to his chest.

"Now now, dearie, I can't have you running up the stairs and off a balcony." His face angled invasively toward mine and I instinctively leaned back. Across the room his face had had a wet, green tinge to it. Up close his skin looked thicker and leathery. "I'm terrible awful it's true," he sung, "But a fate worse than death?" He touched his hand to his chest, faking insult. "I'm hurt, dearie."

"I'm insulted if you think I'm that cowardly" I hurled back, leaning closer now. "I gave you my word and I'm not going to turn tail and run now." His eyes lifted in surprise and something else— real hurt? And then they hardened.

"Well well," he snipped, his voice high and accented. "Prickly aren't we, my little rose?" He waved his hand and the great filigreed doors to our castle swung wide. My mouth dipped open, and I tried to quickly hide my awe. Those doors took a full team of guard to heave apart. I had heard the terrible rumors of the Dark One's power and magic. After all, he had just ended the entire frontier war without a second thought. But somehow seeing the massive iron cast doors swung open like garden gate made it that much more real. I swallowed and set my face.

"I am no where near as fragile as a flower, and I am certainly not 'yours.'" I said wheeling to face him. My bold retort seemed to surprise both of us. His lips tightened angrily, then tipped into a smirk.

"I could turn you into a daisy right now if I wanted to, dearie. You're lucky I need a maid for my castle and not wall decorations. Let's be off, my pet" he spit the last words, and gave a high-pitched nasal laugh. Purple-blue smoke swirled around us and when the magical fog subsided we were standing at the foot of a windswept hill. Snow swirled around us, mingling with the residual magic. I could just make out the imposing silhouette of a castle in the distance above up.

Rumpel dropped my hand and I wound my arms around my chest as the icy wind kicked around us. He dipped in a theatrically bow, "Welcome, to the Dark Castle. My humble abode! Lovely weather we're having. 100% chance of ice-solation!" He giggled that nasal laugh again. He swung his arm in a grandiose arc and despite the shivers racking my body I raised an eyebrow: I bet he conjured this entire snowstorm just for the sake of showmanship.

"Nippy, isn't it?" He snapped his fingers and a thick velvet clock appeared on my shoulders. I tucked it around my icy skin, and pulled the navy hood over my head.

"Thank you," I shuddered.

He took my arm possessively in his and began looping forward, nearly dragging me along. "Don't be going all soft on me now, dearie. Just can't have my flower freeze before the work begins. What a terrible host I would be!"

I stumbled along in the snow, but before another step he swept his hand in a dramatic flourish and the purple smoke engulfed us again and we materialized in the castle's main vestibule. He dropped by arm and brisking walked down the hall, candelabras flaring to life with each stride. This was all for show, I thought. What else was merely a performance? He turned and called to me. His voice echoed, magically amplified, down the long corridor. "Better keep up, dearie! Don't want to be left out in the cold!" I rushed forward, the navy cloak trailing behind me.

I spent my first night in a dungeon. It was a large cellar of heavy stone blocks, littered with piles of straw. A single torch lit the subterranean room, and not knowing how long the flame would last I tried to make myself comfortable. Unbidden tears welled in my eyes and crept down my cheeks as I pulled the heap of straw together, molding them into a lump I could sleep on. I wiped them away bitterly but they continue to fall. Lying down, I realized it no longer mattered if I held back my sorrow and fear. No one would call it cowardice now. The stoic façade I had erected this morning crumbled and I wept angrily into the straw. The edges of my dress were still damp from the snow, and I pulled my knees up to my chest for warmth. Shuddering, I let my sobs echo of the crude stone walls. It felt good to cry, to let my chest heave and wail for my family. For the life I had imagined. Sure, it had been a tightly corseted life, a loveless betrothal, but it had been a life. Familiar and promising if limited. Now both my known world and my freedom was gone.

Suddenly I heard the dungeon door bang upon, hitting the stone behind it.

"How's a an supposed to sleep in this castle?" Rumpel bellowed. "You're going to wake the dead with your wailing, dearie and trust me," his face appeared against the window to my cell and he gripped the iron bars tightly "they'd be tame compared to me!"

I stumbled to my feet, and strode to the door. I would not let him see me cry. "You cannot in good conscious keep me like this. I came here as your servant, not you prisoner."

"Potato potahtoe, love." he purred back. "But if you insist," he reached through the window and opened his hand. A large silk pillow appeared. "We'll straighten out the living arrangements tomorrow if you just let me get some sleep tonight." He bit each word. Slowly, I took the pillow from his hand. He turned away and I could hear his heals click back up stairs and he hefted the door shut behind him. The pillow began to glimmer in the dull torch light and beneath it a down blanket materialized and unfolded itself in my arms. His voice whispered out of it "Happy now? Don't cry too much dearie, this bed set melts away if it touches your tears."

I couldn't tell when the sun rose the next morning but I awoke when the door to my cell clicked gently and swung itself open. Had it been unlocked this whole time? I sat up and peeled straw from my face and plucked it from my hair. If Rumpel was so afraid that I would run away over night, why present me with the choice to leave now? I stood and brushed my skirts off with my hands. My yellow silk dress was pitifully crumpled: stiff where I had turned during sleep. I felt shameful at the idea of him seeing me in this state. Unless he didn't see me. I quickly folded the blanket and stacked the bundle with the pillow in the cell's far corner. Then I crept lightly towards the door. My heels clicked on the exposed stone, and I slide them off and carried them in my other hand. The door had opened itself enough that I could slip through without pushing it further. I hesitated for a moment before sucking in my stomach, flattening myself to the doorjamb and twisting out of the cell.

A triumphant smile rose like a flag on my lips. Free. Now if I could just—just what? Tip-toed through the twists and turns of the castle, manage not to be sensed by an omnipotent omnipresent cursed sorcerer, and flee out the main vestibule? Not to mention the expansive overlook of snow-covered meadow and ragged cliff face. Perhaps Rumpel had shown me the castle from afar not just for the sake of impressions, but also to drive in how isolated it was.

I huffed a sigh and leaned against the stone corridor.

Furthermore, I'd be breaking our deal. Turning tail just as he had predicted yesterday, and just as I had fiercely denied. He would likely take it out on not just me but my family and my entire kingdom as well. I pressed my fingers into my eyes and thought forcibly: this is the right choice. This is the only choice. Then I walked back into the cell, and pulled the heavy creaking door shut with a soft click.

I sat against the far wall, hugged my knees to my chest, and waited. When the torch began to blaze brighter I knew he was nearing. He clicked down the hallway and flung the door open wide.

"Gooood morning, dearie." he said affectedly. He leaned in "How'd you sleep? Didn't bruise yourself on a pea, did you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"Different princess. Anyway, come!" I was magically yanked towards him. "We have a grand tour to go on!"

I stumbled towards him, coming to a top nearly against his chest. He picked up a limp lock of hair of my collarbone with his thumb and forefinger. Tsk-tsk-tsk.

"Can't have you looking like this, dearie! What would the neighbors say?" He giggled nasally and snapped his fingers. Purple mist burst around me, and when it dissipated my dress was again ironed and spotless, the crust of sleep wiped from my eyes, and my hair piled lavishing atop my head. I lifted my wrist to my nose and sniffed. Roses.

"Thank you," I said softly.

"Come!" he turned on his heal and I followed briskly after him.

The castle was bigger than I had remembered. The dungeon itself was cavernous, and as we walked Rumpel flicked his hands to shut and lock doors that he didn't want me to see inside. I was pretty sure I saw torturing cages and racks of butcher's knives through the windows all the same, and my stomach coiled in panicked revulsion. What fate awaited me here?

My gawking cost me my coordination and I my foot caught on the first step. With unearthly speed, Rumpel clasped both my elbows and pulled me upright to stop my fall. "Careful dearie, don't smash that pretty face." He tweaked my cheek and I glared at him. Rumpel giggled and sprung ahead up the stairs, and I huffed against my corset to keep pace with him.

After we ascended the third flight of spiral stairs we emerged into a grand dining hall. The walls were covered in opulent tapestries (quite a few of which I recognized from the castles of other kings and queens) and divided by high covered windows. A molted wooden table took up much of the room, but it was set with neither cutlery not flanked by any chairs. I couldn't imagine Rumpel had much company, or voluntary company rather. Mounted into the nearest wall to us was a large sooty fireplace, and equally dusty mantle. A single armchair faced the flameless nook. The only other furniture in the great room was a aged spinning wheel, tucked near a rough-huned bench that looked like it belonged in a farmer's cabin rather than a lavish castle.

I hadn't realized Rumpel's presence right beside me until he bent to ear and hissed affectedly "Quite the place, huh? I got it at a premium." He laughed devilishly and I could only assume he had evicted or gutted the former own. Perhaps both. "Well, what do you think," he prompted.

I lifted my ears toward the ceiling and admired the grandiose gold and crystal chandelier. Lovely, though it would certainly be difficult to clean.

"I think it's a lot of space for a single man, and I've only seen a single room so far." I left out the dungeon cell.

"Good help's hard to come by dearie," he replied.

"I think you must be lonely here."

He laughed impishly and then paused abruptly. "I could have set the dark castle in suburbia if I wanted dearie, but I like my privacy. Considered yourself privileged to have my company."

"Flattered," I retorted. Ignoring me, he grabbed my hand and tugged me back to the stairwell. His long fingers curled between mine and the warm flush of our palms against each other surprised me. If I looked taken about he didn't notice, and continue to tow me behind him. I was relieved when we continued up the stairs rather than back down.

He led me through stain glassed-lined walkways, the colored windows fogged over with caked dust and filth. We wove around greasy armor statues, and alabaster columns. In and out of empty bedrooms, wash closets and dressing rooms. I counted at least two kitchens on the lower level, and two rooms that might have been studies had there been more than a handful of cobwebbed books on the shelf.

"You'll be quite busy here dearie," he said as we took a turn at the south end of the castle, descended down a back stairwell and emerged on the other end of the grand hall near the entrance vestibule. He leaned over "Hope you haven't made any plans!"

He laughed at his own joke, dropping my hand. It was only then I realized that he had held it throughout the entire draw, even as he had swept aside curtains and made grandiose gestures with the other.

I couldn't think of anything smart to retort with, but my stomach growled angrily in reply. I blanched. So much for bold mental and physical resolve.

"I've forgotten to feed you! Pardon my ill manners," he drew out the last two words slowly. Well, what do you want to eat?"

I looked at him confused, "Well—don't, don't I need to cook it?"

"Normally, yes. But terrible beast that I am it looks like I've kept you from both breakfast and lunch. So here." I waved his had in the direction of the table and it set itself with a plate of croissants and jam, and a small pot of tea. Cutlery materialized and aligned itself and a chair slide into place before the meal. My mouth watered, and I looked at him expectantly.

"You're a servant not a child, Miss French. Don't wait for me to you food for you."

I walked to the table, and tried to spread jam over the pastries as delicately and elegantly as I could, but my hands were shaking from hunger. Thinking back, I realized my last meal had been at my own home early the day before.

I heard a puff and Rumpel materialized beside me, "No need for courtly manners here, dearie. Everyone's got a hunger inside them."

At that I shoved the croissant in my mouth. I snatched another, dipped one end directly into the pot of jam and bit into it. I slurped a cup of tea to wash it back with. I could live down later, but for now I needed to eat something.

I heard Rumpel giggling, "Remind me never to get in you way love, and might just bite my head off."

I scowled, chewing a third croissant. Crumbs had flurried into my lap and I swept them off my dress with an embarrassed blush. "It's okay dearie, we're all animals."

I was beginning to notice how most of his conversation didn't leave room for a reply, other than a smart retort. He must be used to more monologues than conversation.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asking, swallowing more tea after swirling in a bit of sugar and cream.

"I've gotten out of that habit a while back. But if you insist," he nabbed a croissant and sat back on the edge of the table.

"Would you like me to cook for you while I'm here?"

"A princess that cooks, well that's a joke in itself."

I blushed. True I hadn't cooked much in recent years, but when I was younger papa let me watch the cooks in the kitchen. I knew enough basic skills to fed a man who hadn't eaten in years. What sort of standards could he have?

"Well," Rumpel said, seeming to consider the offer. "I can let you cook for me if you like. Can you make meat pies?"

"Sure, but I haven't seen meat in your pantry." Come to think of it, I hadn't seen much of anything.

"It's okay, I'll go hunting later."

"I didn't know there were dear in these woods"

"No, just local peasants. The meat is leaner" he said.

I choked on my tea, and coughing inched back from the tea.

Rumpel looked down at me with a condensing expression, his teacup paused below his lips and his saucer held on his lap. "It's a joke, dearie." Once my airway cleared, I had to chuckle a bit. At least my beast had a sense of humor, unsettling though it was. Watching me smile, he seemed almost relieved. He let out a nasally laugh. The tea cup vanished from his hands. The rest of the cutlery and meal followed.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "I hadn't eaten in a while."

"You ought to keep better track of that, dearie."

Easy for him to say; I thought about my dungeon accommodations last night. My only meal option had been straw. I wrinkled my nose, and he tapped it "We'll work something out."

In another room, a grandfather clock chimed. I tried to count the bells, but Rumpel gave an excited squeal hopped up briskly.

"Ohh—Can't be late for my next appointments. I've got some rounds to make and collections to do. And if things go as I expect they will, soon I'll have collected some people to spin round and round." I clapped and I swallowed- I guess the Saint Catherine's wheel I had glimpsed downstairs wasn't for show. Walked towards the main vestibule, disappearing in a puff of purple fog as he left the room.

I let out a breath. My new master was strangely eccentric and utterly terrifying. He hadn't said when he was going to be back, or even given me anything to do. I imagined I ought to have tea and supper ready when he returned, but with the windows covered in thick drapery I couldn't even gage from the sun what time it might be. In Avonleigh we had sundials in many of our courtyards. If I could find the clock that had chimed, or even get back to one of the stained-glass windows in the rooms above I could estimate how long I had to cook and prepare, and how much time I had to explore before he returned.

I wandered down the nearest hallway towards where I thought the clock might be. The ruby fabric paneling smothered what little natural light there was, and the candles mounted on the wall every few paces cast a rich golden hue, casing the golden thread designs in the wall to glimmer eerily. Every so often I passed a mirror, swathed in a makeshift curtain, or broken completely. I stopped and picked at one of the shards hanging from an ornate frame—Rumpel certainly didn't believe in seven years' bad luck. If I remembered correctly from my earlier tour, this hallway follow a square pathway around the great hall, with several shorter corridors and rooms branching of from it. The upper stories were laid but in a similar fashion, but instead of another central atrium there was a greater number of rooms that open directly into each other, interrupted by tower turrets and often bordered by iron-wrought balconies. I had seen two floors so far, but with the number of stairs I had spotted I knew the castle much reach far higher than the one I had grown up in.

I turned into the first room, and was surprised to see a sparse stone den. The stone carving work around the entrance and covered windows was breathtaking, but also the room's only decoration besides a threadbare carpet. All the rooms Rumpel had shown me (however dusty) showed signs of occupation, but this and the next one I saw now were utterly lifeless. As if Rumpel had run out of ideas, or motivation, by which to purpose the space in his massive abode. I guess when you live alone there is only some much space you can take up.

The third room was a closet, stuffed with the cleaning supplies that I guessed would soon become my closet companions and sole possessions. At the turn of the hallway was a turret of spiraled stairs I didn't recognize. I took one hesitant step, and then another. If I was to clean every inch of this castle, I would undoubtedly explore each of its rooms eventually. Why not start now, I thought.

Ascending the stairwell, I heard a soft ticking and new I had found the grandfather clock. The stairwell opened into a circular room with the first open windows I had seen so far. It was comfortably lined with shelves upon shelves of books. A worktable piled with parchment and glass vials stood near the window, and several other such tables were cluttered towards the far side of the room. I wondered if this was where Rumpel invented spells, research potions and experimented with his magic. From the stack of dirty dishes in the corner I assumed he spent a great deal of his time up here. I traced my finger across the spines of a few of the books, pulling them out enough to inspect their covers and slide them back. The smelled ancient, smelled comforting. Many were written in other languages, decorated in cryptic symbols and dark designs. Perhaps I had found the first books in my life that I didn't want to read.

I gingerly stacked Rumpel's dirty dishes in my arms and glanced at the clock. Almost four. I could start baking meat pies and keep them warm by the fireplace for whatever hour he returned home. Relying on my mental map I backtracked my way first to the grand hall, and then down to the kitchen. Rumpel must have taken my offer to heart because the pantry was now stocked with preserves, smoked meats and sakes of vegetables. Why can't he magic clean his own dishes then? I huffed, filling the water basin and scrubbing the crusts of stew and meat of his fine china. I wondered why I was to prepare his meals at all if he rarely ate and magically conjured up his food when he finally did dine. My new master was certainly strange and unpredictable.

**Author's Note: I'm going to continue the flashback later on because it's so much fun to imagine. But for now, Belle is about to be interrupted in her reverie by a pair of unsettling guests!**


	4. Taken

In the shop I heard the bells on the door jangle and two boys walked in. Both were tall and lanky, their arms folded into peacoats against the damp afternoon. They were at the counter before I completely resurfaced from my reverie.

"Can I help you," I managed, swiftly putting the chipped cup aside.

"I certainly hope so. My associate and I are hoping to procure a lost parcel, and beg your assistance," the bespectacled boy responded, leering down at me. I easily placed his accent in urban southern England. But there was something else to his affected way of speaking that made me wonder less about where he might be from and and more about when.

As if on queue, the slightly shorter man slid a picture across the glass counter top. I picked it up and inspected it closely— it was a rough sketch of a box marked with the ancient Greek symbols for Alpha and Omega, and topped with a small nob. I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head, "I'm sorry, I've never seen this among our stock before." The taller boy squinted at me for a long moment, and then took the paper back from my outstretched hand. The shorter boy tapped his elbow, and they turned to leave.

"Thank you for your assistance," said the shorter one over his shoulder.

As the taller boy held the door open for the younger, he leaned down to whisper something in his companion's he ear. The shorter boy nodded, turned and looked me over shrewdly before walking out the door.

The whole thing gave me the willies. Glancing at the coo-coo clock mounted next to the door, I was relieved to see that my daydreaming had sped away much of the day. After updating the inventory records and doing some quick dusting, I flipped the closed sign and locked up. Rumpel's house was on the outskirts of town, and without his chauffeured car it would be a long walk.

Opening the door, I felt immediately awash in a jumble of emotions. Rumpel's scent haunted the front hall. His coat and scarf still hung from the coatrack. I fingered the sleeve and pressed it to my nose. Being here was both comforting and deeply saddening.

I loved nearly everything about Rumpel's Storybrooke house. An elegant Victorian mansion, it was a smaller tamer version of his Enchanted Forest castle. I flicked on the hallway nights and traced my fingers along the stairway banister, carved from a deep ebony rail. A smile crept across my face as I trailed my hand over the ornate wood and ascended the stairs. Simply walking to his bedroom made me blush. Had it really been so long? It felt like we had hardly had any time together. This was bittersweet, as it made the most significant moments all the more precious in my memory.

It was the night of our first hamburger date. I had recently moved out, but things had gone so well—so normally—that I didn't want to break the spell over that evening. We drove back to his house and I leaned on his good side as we walked to the porch.

"Won't you come in?" he said, knowing the answer. We had passed my apartment miles back.

"I'm hardly dropping you off at the door," I said, my coy smile reflecting his own sheepish grin.

I took his hand and led him upstairs, which felt almost overly bold to me seeing as I hadn't been in his house for some time. His cane tapped each step lightly as we climbed the staircase towards the master bedroom.

I have to pause here and confess that I was already nervous. We had slept in the same bed for months but Rumpel always gave me a wide berth, as if he didn't want to scare me away. During those days I changed in the closest, and blushed when his hands skimmed over my breasts or under the hem of my skirt. Kissing him felt more natural than breathing, than fish swimming and birds flying. My body ached for his touch, burned for it. But that didn't make me any less bashful. No one but my nursemaid had ever seen me naked. Hell, being raised in the king's court I had never been alone with a man unchaperoned before Rumpel. And yet here we were.

At the door to his room— our room— I stepped in front of him. I had a choice. And this was the right choice. I gently took the cane from his hand, leaned it against the doorjamb, and kissed him. His hands held my face, fingers angling into my hair. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and leaned up to kissing him more fully, more fervently. He bit my lower lip, tugging lightly. I sighed without meaning too. Thirty years of longing washed over me and I pulled myself closer until every inch of my body as pressed against his.

"Belle," he whispered, leaning away to look at me for a moment. He slid his hands down to my waist. "Why? Why do you love me," he eyes were earnest and searching. I laughed without thought, and he blanched. I realized how vulnerable he was.

Beneath his suit were his gnarled leg, his emotional self-doubt, and every physical insecurity that had wedged us apart a lifetime ago.

"How can you doubt that after all of this, there is not one man in this world—or any world— that I was to be with more?"

Something in his gaze gave way, like water rushing over an ancient, crumbling dam, and he swept me into his arms. I don't know if magic or determination aided his steps but in that moment I didn't care. Rumpel toed open the door and set me on his lap at the bed. His lips roamed from my lips to my collarbone, and his fingers pressed hungrily into my lower back. I reached up awkwardly, trying to unzip my dress behind my neck. I realized apart from what I had read in books, I didn't really know how to do this, and let alone do it gracefully. Without missing a beat, Rumpel's hands took the zipper from my fingers and slid it down my spine. I lifted my arms, and he guided them out of my navy blue sleeves. The dress pooled around my waist, and I stood nervously. The dress fell to the floor, and I stood in my bra and panties between his legs. He looked up at me in awe, in reverence? All my self-doubt lifted, and I reached back to guide his hands to my hips. He knelt and slid down my panties to my ankles. Stepping out of them, I unhooked my bra and dropped it behind me. He leaned forward and kissed my stomach, groaning softly. He stood after a moment, and loosened his tie. I unbuttoned his suit jacket; he unclipped the cufflinks. I smirked thinking he had more layers of clothes to get through than I did. He had always had more layers to get through than I did.

At last, he stepped out of his boxers and cupped his hands under my behind. I lifted my leg and he caught my thigh, pulling me up to him. He lifted me in his arms, and I crossed my legs tightly around him, crushing his warmth to me. I felt the strong muscles of his shoulders tighten as he turned and lowered me onto the bed. He curled an arm around my lower back and set my head down gently on the pillows. I gazed up at him as I felt his pelvis lowering to mine, our bodies at the edge of meeting.

"There is no place in all the realms I would rather be," I breathed, "than right here in this moment." He descended into me and I gasped. I could feel all of him, up to his heart knocking against my chest and the breath rushing in and out of his lungs. After a delicious eternity, his grip loosened and he sighed. Still holding himself over me, he kissed my forehead, my eyelids, the tip of my nose, before moving to my side. His face had changed so much since we first met, but in the low lamplight he wore the same expression of wonder I saw when he caught me in his arms some many years ago.

"Belle," he said, suddenly concerned. "You're bleeding." His eyes softened as he realized that this was my first time. I blushed and scrambled backwards, all the wonder and romance of the moment gone. My bravery slipped into shame and my hands fluttered over his sheets as I struggled to untangle myself.

"Oh, your sheets, Rumpel— I'm sorry," I stuttered.

His firm hands stayed mine, and I froze. "Hey," he said softly, tipping my chin up to look in my eyes. "They're just sheets." He wound his arms around me and hugged me to his chest. I yielded and tucked my head under his chin. "Sex is truly nothing magical, love," his whispered, "But giving yourself to someone is different. You could say it's my first time for that too." I curled closer to him, and imagined the moment could extend into forever.

In the present, I leaned against the doorjamb. My heart ached like a purpling bruise as I gazed at the empty bed, its corners tucked starkly and its pillows plump and unused. Numbly I unfolded the spare set of pajamas I kept in his dresser and climbed into his side of our bed. Curling my legs to my chest, I wrapped myself tightly in the layers of silk sheets and soft down and pretended his arms were here to cage me in, and his heartbeat behind back to anchor me.

It was in this curl of blankets that the familiar ache began. Not in my chest, but at the base of my spine. It wound its way along bones and sinew, the pain radiating sharper and sharper. The enchantments here, they weren't strong enough. I sat up, heart pounding, and grabbed for a bedpost, the headboard, anything to which I could anchor myself. I felt a heavy yank backwards, and my vision swirled. Blue's words drifted back into my mind as my sight grayed over: someone was taking a part of me through worlds "…like wearing a mask. This is very dark magic indeed…."

I gritted my teeth, fighting against the swirling oblivion. The room had dissolved around me, but I could still feel the tips of my fingers clutching the headboard. What if I let go? The thought echoed through my splitting skull. What if I gave them more than they bargained for? If they're trying to take just enough of me to mask themselves, what if all of me comes with it? Rumpel. If I tumbled across worlds could I see Rumpel again, warn him of the danger? The idea was so seductive, and without thinking further I released my grasp of the headboard, and my neck whipped back. I fell out of this reality, all cool night air and starry streaks. I wasn't physically flying, but rather vortexing through squeezed space and time. But something was wrong, as if ropes were fraying. Or more precisely being cut. Blue's mask thief was letting me off, midflight. I could feel the pain in my spine lessening, but the nauseas swirling continued. My hair twisted around my face, my hand clutched at empty wind. Why didn't I hold on, why did I stop resisting? I tried to scream, but no sound came. I continued to flail and fall into the spiraling nothingness. Then the ground came.


End file.
